


Years Gone By

by ArcanaMajor_OurLadyofThorns (Adi_Bug)



Category: Poison Princess - Fandom, The Arcana Chronicles - Kresley Cole
Genre: AU, F/M, Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adi_Bug/pseuds/ArcanaMajor_OurLadyofThorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evie lived through her nightmares; there were no sunbeams that scorched the Earth. There were no evil Tarot cards trying to kill her. There was no problem. She went back to taking her medicine, but things were different. Brandon just wasn't her type. And it was looking like Jack was... Until things got bad with him. Ten years later, and things are upside down again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Cajun and a Girl on a Bike

**Author's Note:**

> I have a problem, I know. I was reading about Angola Prison, a max state penn in Louisiana, and I remembered Jack mention being sent there when he and Evie are being snarky assholes about their futures. This one is gonna be really angsty and amazing. (Please don't remind me that I'm obsessive and that I have a problem)

**_Monday, August 20 th, 2012_ **

**_Evie_ **

My birthday was today…And nothing. Nothing happened. I wanted to cry. I mean, I did, but I also wanted to scream and rage. I really _was_ just crazy.

“Evie, someone is here for you?!” my mom yelled up the stairs, her voices was confused. I jumped, startled by the noise.

Weird… I knew Brand wasn’t going to come and get me, but why didn’t Mom recognize the car? Probably Grace-Ann. She just got her license, and would love to jump at any chance to come pick me up.

I raced down the stairs, as best I could in heels, wanting to get out of the house as soon as possible. I wanted to avoid the pretty, blonde Sherlock.

“Evangeline Greene, wait just a minute! You are not riding a motorcycle to school!”  _Motorcycle_? Only one person in Sterling had a motorcycle, and he wasn’t even from Sterling.  _Jackson Deveaux_.

He’d almost kissed me on the night of my birthday party, and then stole my drawings. When I went to get them back, I’d seen him beat a man into  _bagasse_. Cane pulp. He’d yelled at me and forced me from his house, scaring me off. That was no feat, since I was afraid of what I’d seen him do. I was afraid of what he’d do to _me_.

_And now he was here to pick me up_?! The nerve of him!

“Mom, I don’t even know who that is—” And then he knocked.  _How polite_.

“Well, we’re about to find out.” Her voice was stern, the usual Frau Badass, and for once, I feared for Jackson. I paced in the kitchen, afraid to go out to face them. That’s when I heard a weird sound. Was my mother… _laughing_? I walked towards the corner and heard Jackson’s deep voice rumbling. My mother  _was_ laughing!

“Mom?” I rounded the corner, frowning slightly.

“Oh! Evie, you didn’t tell me Jackson was going to come pick you up.” Her eyes crinkled around the edges, and her eyes sparkled. _What did he say?_

“He wasn’t,” I told her in a deadpan voice.

“Evie, Jackson has offered to take you to school, as Brandon can’t. He’s promised to be slow, since it is your first ride.” Jackson’s smirk made me blush and I scowled back at him. Innuendos must be his forte.

“Mom, I’m not wearing the right clothes, I mean, a skirt is hardly appropriate for a motorcycle ride—”

“Then change into jeans. But I can’t take you to school, I have a farmer’s meeting to get to.” Without checking to see me change, my mother kissed my head, grabbing her purse as she headed out the front door. She took off down our shell driveway, quickly disappearing behind fields of cane.

“Mornin’,  _chere_ ,” Jackson said, his voice low. It sounded as if he’d just woken up, but I knew that wasn’t true. He was the Cajunland player, I reminded myself. I was just another  _gaienne_. Doe tag. I huffed and flounced past him onto the front porch, trying to seem unaffected by him.

“Are you coming?” I threw over my shoulder, standing by his bike.

“If you sit behind me, wit dose legs in dat skirt, I might be.” I whirled around, my mouth open, a gasp never quite forming. He grinned and loped down the stairs to his bike. “Here.” Jackson handed me a helmet and I frowned. My hair would be messed up.  A quick reassessment and I figured a loose bun would work. After I took it, he grinned and my heart stopped. It was the first time I’d seen him genuinely smile.

“Wear my jacket, you. It’ll protect your arms.” I hesitated to take the jacket. I needed to clarify something before we left Haven.

“Jackson, there’s something we need to talk about first.” His body tensed and I moved closer to lightly touch his arm. That’s when I noticed the white bandage covering his forearm.  _With surprising speed, he attacked with the jagged end. Jackson warded off the blow with his forearm. I saw bone before blood welled._ As if he was remembering too, he pulled away.

“What ‘bout?” Jackson’s warm demeanor suddenly changes, and his voice tightened.

“You know what coming to school with me on the back of your bike means.”

“ _Ouais, j’connais_.” Yeah, I know. Now he sounded offended. Great.

“How did you know I broke up with Brandon?”

“Did you see him do dat keg stand with Clotile?” I looked away, embarrassed. It was true. After that, I’d told Brandon that it was over. I didn’t feel happy with him, and I knew he would be happier with someone else.

Jackson laid his jacket across my shoulders, brushing my hair from my neck, knowing I’d accepted the consequences of us showing up together. Knowing I’d accepted him.

“ _Fille_ , we doan have to worry about him or anyone else anymore.  _Ouais_?” I bit my lip. It’s not like I could drive… And Mel was still without a phone…

“Fine.” He smiled again and I half smiled back. What wouldn’t I do to see that smile again?

* * *

If riding in the Porsche was fun, then this was heaven. Jackson roared the bike to life on the same stretch of road where we met. We sped towards town and I laughed in his ear. It was  _incredible_.

The flying wind lifted my skirt, making it dance around my thighs and I shifted closer to Jackson. He reached back, one hand stroking up my bare thigh and back to my knee. I shudder and pressed against his back again. He gripped my knee tightly, before letting go.

He stopped about twenty minutes from the school, practically hauling me off the bike. I barely got the helmet off as he rasped, "Gotta have a taste of you, me."

Before I knew what was happening, I was against a tree, Jack's mouth on mine. I gasped, my hands moving to grip his hair. My body arched into his, pulled in closer by his large hands. Even though his kiss scorched me and he was pressed tightly against my stomach, his hands stayed firmly on my hips. Mine, however, decided to stray. They slid over his shoulders, down his arms, and towards his chest. Jackson growled, stopping my hands before they reached his front.

" _Non_ , Evie, doan. I woan be able to stop wha' happens after," he said hoarsely, his voice almost desperate. I whimpered quietly, half in wanting, half in disappointment. Jackson groaned, leaning to kiss my neck, his stubble rubbing against me.

It was then I remembered; " _School_."

That word was the only word that came out of my mouth.

" _Bébé,_  skip school wit' me. I can show you all kinds of tings you'd like..." He kissed under my ear, pressing against me again. It felt amazing…

"No," I managed to gasp. "We need to go to school. And no hickeys," I added quickly, as he leaned in to bite my neck.

"Why not? Doan want to be marked by me?" The thought sent delicious shivers up my spine. Instead of mean teasing in his voice, there was a hint of humor, as if that thought amused him.

"I just don't need rumors about me flying about. Okay? Hickeys after everyone knows Brandon and I broke up? And now I come to school on your bike, wearing your jacket, with  _your_ hickeys on my neck? I should just wear a taxi sign that says 'Open for Business'—” Jackson's hands jerked spasmodically on my hips and I squeaked in pain.

"Dat's not goan to happen, Evangeline. Not on my watch," Jackson’s voice was like everything else about him; intense.

"Still, can we minimize the damage?" I pleaded, leaning into him again. He exhaled a long breath, before his lips turned up in a small smile.

"If you insist,  _fille_." He pulled away after one more long, hot kiss.

The two of us climbed back on the bike, glued to each other once more, speeding towards school and all that awaited us there.

* * *

We arrived not too much later, and for the second time that year, the entire school came to a screeching halt because of a Cajun and a girl on a bike. This time, I wasn't there to gawk at the impossible; I was impossibly being gawked at.


	2. Cajun Kisses and Unfulfilled Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as much fun as this relationshipy stuff is, it won't last much longer. I have to get to the bulk of the story. 
> 
> Also, I feel like I should keep some of the structure of the story... So how creepy would it be to make Arthur her therapist? Or Selena. Selena would be even weirder? Oh, the plot bunnies abound...

Before I could even reach for my backpack, Jackson was there, gripping it tightly in his hand. He seemed to be daring me to reach for it.

“Jackson, please, let me carry my bag—”

“ _Non_.” His voice was fierce, but I scowled.

“I can carry my own bag.”

“I tol’ you. Carryin’ your bag means you’re _mine_. That, and does hickeys you sportin’.” My hands flew to my neck, and he laughed. Even though it was at my expense, I decided I liked the sound.

“Jackson! I told you—”

“Dere’s no-ting dere, _peek_ _ô_ _n_. I promise. I was teasin’ you. Ah, Evie… Doan make de bahbin…” He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. I relished in the feeling of his gentle touch before easing away.

“We need to get to class…” He exhaled, obviously hoping I would skip, but a slip in grades means a permanent residence at Child’s Last Chance. _He can’t know_ …

“Lead de way, _ch_ _è_ _re_ …” Jackson fell in step beside me, his arm protectively around my waist. Mel, my sister from another mister, caught us at the front doors.

“I see you caught some nice Cajun ass, Evie.”

“What happened to your phone, Mel? I tried to text you like a million times after Sunday.”

“My parents still won’t get me a new one.” Her face was confused, but I reminded her that mine had been safely in my boot, as I hadn’t been comfortable leaving it in her car. I still had my phone because of it.

“Eves, you’ve got a carefrontation in your near future,” she warned ominously, before punching my arm lovingly (meaning with all the force she has) and flouncing away.  

“Carefrontation?” Jackson said as he leaned into my ear to talk, maneuvering us towards homeroom. I was so wrapped up in him that I could barely see anyone else in the hallway staring at us.

“Mel’s version of girl talk, minus the mush. She just wants the dish on you.”

“Only _bon_ tings, I hope?” Although he said it in an off-hand manner, I got the impression that he actually cared what I said to Mel about him.

“She already knows the bad things—p” Before he could get angry, I rushed forward. “And those things don’t matter to me, or her, anyways. I only care about the good things.” His body relaxed and we turned into our homeroom class. He directed me towards my favourite seat by the window, sitting behind me.

I could barely pay attention to our teacher, with Jackson was leaning in so close to me. He played with my hair and my neck, making me turn into a puddle of happiness.

The bell rang and I jumped in my chair. Not once had a voice bothered me or a vision plagued me. Jackson had made them disappear.

I mulled it over, talking with Jackson in Cajun. Safe in his arms, I brushed away my worries and relaxed. Being around him was definitely good for my health.

Lunch approached and I was excited to be around Jackson once more. We moved outside to eat, our friends joining us. Grace Ann and Catherine had different lunches, so it was just Mel for me. Clotile and Tee-Bo were the only ones nice enough to join Jackson, Mel and I. Jackson sat beside me, my legs pulled over his lap, wedged as close as possible.

“ _Mais_ , _elle est sa belle_?” Well, is she your girlfriend? I blushed, remembering that none of them knew I spoke Cajun.

“ _Ouais_ ,” I replied before Jackson. “ _Je suis sa belle_.” Clotile laughed and congratulated me, Tee-Bo smiling faintly. Mel looked plain lost.

“What the frick just happened?”

“They asked if I was his girlfriend.”

“And???” I shrugged, simply replying, “ _Je suis_.” The Cajuns laughed and Mel scowled, punching my thigh.

“Not cool, Greene. Does Frau Badass know?”

“Mel, it just happened. Can we give it some time for me to adjust to it, before we tell her?” Mel huffed and agreed.

The talk at lunch continued bouncing between English and Cajun, which still pissed off Mel, but made Jackson laugh. I felt like they would get along well. I was glad, too. Because it’s a requirement that boyfriends and best friends get along. Especially with a girl like Mel.

* * *

 History, my last class, couldn’t come soon enough. We were in the library, which meant that I could sit as near Jackson as I wanted, without it being really weird. Some work got done, though not much. Jackson likes to touch, and feel, and tease. It doesn’t lend to a good learning environment. We spent the entire class, battling each other and trying to do some work. It was forty percent of our grade.

When the bell rang, I barely knew what to do. Normally Mel took me home, since Brandon usually had football practice. But I had a cheerleading practice in thirty minutes. What did I do?

“Jackson, I have to stay for cheerleading practice, so Mel can take me home.” I turned to face him and saw the barest hint of hurt before he turned into the Cajunland player.

“And miss seein’ you in tight workout? _Non, jamais_.” No, never.

“It’ll be a long practice…”

“Then I’ll be here for a long time.” Inside my chest, my heart leapt at the possibility of him seeing me practice. But I knew it was a long drive back to the bayou, to his house, and I didn’t want his mother to not be cared for. I lowered my voice to express my concern.

“What about your mother?” His body stiffened slightly.

“ _Ma m_ _è_ _re_ will be fine but _merci_ for your concern.” I frowned slightly, sighing as he makes it obvious the conversation is over.

The two of us walked silently to my locker, where he placed my backpack on my locker door, leaning next to me as I pulled out my homework.

“Practice is in thirty minutes…” I was cut off by a rumbling “ _Bon_ ” before being pulled along beside Jackson. He walked briskly with me towards Eden’s courtyard, dumping our bags near the stone table. I was lifted onto the table, Jackson wedged between my thighs.

“Been tinkin’ of dis all day…” His large hands cradled my face gently, kissing me as such.

His lips were warm and firm and _delicious_ , and I wanted more. My hands slide forward into his hair, unable to resist myself. I wanted to feel more of him.

“De only time I want a car, instead of my bike…” I shivered at his implications and he smirked, pulling me impossibly closer.

“We can use Mel’s car,” I said, my voice more breathy than I intended.

“Melissa woan mind?” I laughed against his mouth, making him smile deeply. He deepened the kiss before pulling away. “Tell me, _fille_ , will she?”

“No, she won’t.” His eyes searched my face for a few minutes before pulling back, grabbing our things, before gesturing for me to lead the way.

I grabbed his hand, heading around the side to Mel’s parking spot. I pulled her spare key out of the wheel well, opening the backseat and replacing the key. Jackson tossed our things up front, crawling into the back with me. I started to make a comment about the space, when Jackson pulled me into his lap, my thighs on either side of his hips.

Without words, he pulled me closer. Our lips met and instead of slow and burning, it was hard and hot. I finally understood the expression “hot and heavy”. But it apparently held a double meaning, as Jackson’s hips pressed into mine hard. I groaned, tugging his hair slightly. Now _that_ was hot. My hips acted of their own accord, pressing back against him and his hands gripped them tighter.

“ _Evangeline_ ,” he said reverently, his voice low and raspy. I could barely form words. My body was warm and tingly and insistent on…something. I couldn’t quite figure it out, but when he did _that_ , I wanted more. Jackson continued to grind his hips against mine, making my voice go breathy when I moaned. Being with Brandon had _never_ ever felt like this. I never wanted Jackson to stop.

But when do I ever get what I want?

There was a violent banging on the window of Mel’s car, and it wasn’t Mel.

_It was Brandon._


	3. Tempérament de Cadien

I felt Jackson tense beneath me. _Shit_. Jackson pushed me out of his lap, but I hurried out before he could resituate himself.

“Brandon, come on, you know you’ll get kicked off the team if you fight!”

“Evie, this is why you dumped me, for this Cajun?” I could see the hurt, and I wanted to make it go away. But that _wasn’t_ my job anymore.

“No, but I do have feelings for him.”

“ _Obviously_. You barely even let me get to second base, and here you are practically fucking him in the back of Mel’s car!”

“ _Enfoiré!_ ” Jack yelled as he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

“Jackson, don’t!” I tried to move between him and Brandon, but he just swept me out of the way.

“Why de _HELL_ did you interrupt me and _ma fille_?!”

“I don’t speak French, Cajun!”

“ _Non merde_! My girl, Evie is _ma—fille_!”

“You don’t get to touch her like that!”

“And who decides? You, a boy she tossed away, or me, her _beau_?” Brandon’s face turned red, and anger flashed in his eyes, an emotion I didn’t know he possessed. But the one in Jack’s eyes I did recognize. The one promising pain. _Bagasse_.

“I get to decide, god dammit! I am not some girl to be fought over and won!”

“He interrupted us. Now I’m pissed dat I didn’t get de taste of _ma fille_ dat I had a _thracas_ for.” Again, his voice was low and I knew it wasn’t anger that did it.

“Jack, please, don’t. It’s not worth it. You can get sent away again, and then there’s no hope. Not for us.” My hand wrapped around his bandaged forearm, seemingly pulling him away from the fight. And then another very un-Brandon-like thing happened. He laughed as Jackson turned away from him.

One thing Jackson hated more than anything was being laughed at. And Brandon had already pissed him off. Before I could move, Brandon lay on the pavement, his nose bleeding. Jackson stood over him, hands clenched so tightly, tendons in his arms popped.

“You laugh at me again, I goan to do de same, but not be as nice. You interrupt me and _ma fille_ again, I not goan to be as nice. You tell anyone what happened, and I definitely woan be as nice. Dis never happened, _ouais_?” Brandon slowly nodded, tears forming in his eyes. I skittered back from Jackson, slightly afraid. Maybe not of him, but of the power he wielded, the raw side of him.

Brandon got up and ran off, and I wanted to run after to comfort him, but I felt like Jackson and I were about to have our first carefrontation.

“Evie, _b_ _é_ _b_ _é_ you okay?” He turned to face me, his face suddenly gentle.

“Why did you have to do that?” I asked in a quiet voice, unable to tell if I was angry or close to crying. And if I cried, would it be from sadness or anger?

“You need to get goan to practice. We’ll talk when you’re done.” His quiet, gentle dismissal stung. Badly.

“Fine,” came my answer, pushed from my lungs. I held back tears as I yanked my bag from the front seat. My feet carried me towards the school at a rapid pace, a slight jog. I was probably going to be late anyway, but I needed a few minutes to myself.

“Evie!” Jackson’s heavy boots hit the ground as he ran to catch up with me. I turned away from him, gripping my bag tighter in my hand.

“I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” My dismissal hurt me as much as his did. I didn’t want him to leave, I never wanted him to leave, but I was angry at what he’d done. I was angry at what Brandon had done. I wasn’t his girlfriend anymore, he had no right to me. But Jackson didn’t need to defend me over something silly. I mean, yeah, I wanted to do more with Jackson and I was upset that we’d been interrupted.

God, I was so angry in general! Jackson followed me silently to the bathroom, where I changed. After hastily changing into my cheer clothes, barely noticing the solid figure in front of me as I ran out…straight into Jackson.

“Doan be mad at me, Evie…” He went to reach for me but I pulled back and scowled.

“I don’t want you to touch me right now. I’m angry, and I want to feel my anger. Not forget it.” I moved around him, making my way to the gym. I heard Jackson follow me, cursing quietly as I stalked towards practice. It wasn’t hard to guess; cheer shorts are tight.

Practice flew by quickly and I worked up a sweat, happy I could lose myself in exercise. Sidelong glances were the theme of that practice, even with Mel busting our asses to perfect routines. They all chattered, and I could hear Jackson’s name with mine, and my ears turned red. It was a scandal for Sterling’s richest girl to be dating the bayou’s poorest. It didn’t help that Jackson sat three rows up, watching us— _me_ —the entire practice.

I could feel his gray eyes burning into me, watching every move I made. By the time cheer practice was actually over, I was out of breathed and flushed, but not from only from the workout. Who knew a man’s gaze could affect one so much?

Obviously, Jackson knew, because he watched me the entire time I talked to friends, laughing, voice- and worry-free for once. I stood and talked for another twenty minutes before I heard Jackson’s heavy boots stomp on the resin bleachers. The sound echoed in the gym, sending a couple of freshman skittering. He made his way to me, dark intent in his eyes.

“Evangeline, your _m_ _è_ _re_ is expecting you soon. Let’s get goan.”

“I’m talking. Mel will just give me a ride. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” I turned back to talk to my friends when the other girls gasped. They hurriedly said their good-byes and I gave Jackson a black look.

“It wasn’t a suggestion, _fille_.” I reared back at his tone, offended by his possessiveness, but still a part of me responded.

“Mine wasn’t either.” I glared at him again, before spinning around him, heading out towards the parking lot.

“I’m takin’ you home, Evie, and dere’s no other way you goan to get home.”

“Mel will take me.”

“Melissa already left.” _Dammit, he was right_. Mel’s car was missing from the lot. Which left Jackson. _Dammit_.

“Fine. Just let me put these on.” Sweats in my bag made for fewer points of contact between Jackson and me, minimizing sexual tension, I hoped.

As usual, I was wrong. It seemed there was even more tension. Maybe it was our bodies humming with anger, or that we never got to finish what we started. Either way, 

the rather long ride home was awkward. The moment he came to a stop in front of the steps, I leapt off the bike, throwing the helmet at him as I stomped towards the front door at a fast pace. Still, Jack managed to catch my arm.

“Let  _ go _ of me!” I said, yanking my arm away. “I told you, I want to be angry.”

“ _F_ _ ille,  _ please talk to me."

"Jack, we'll talk tomorrow, I just want to be angry right now!" His dark eyes were stormy as he glared up the steps at me. I refused to back down, sticking my chin out in defiance. Jack huffs, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. He bounded up the stairs quickly, pulling me close to give me a quick, rather chaste, kiss before turning and stalking towards his bike. He hesitated, once he was on, turning to look at me one more time before shaking his head and putting his helmet on. He took off down the driveway, leaving me with a weird empty feeling in my chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK WHO FINALLY GOT A CHAPTER UP


End file.
